


Poisonously Pretty

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [126]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Anachronistic, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, GuardCaptain!Klaus, Pre-Quest, Princess!Caroline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: When a princess has a quest to start sometimes she's got to take drastic measures.





	Poisonously Pretty

**Poisonously Pretty**

**(Prompt:** **"got drunk and broke into a dragon guarded tower together au" though technically more of a prequel to that series of events. Title from "Cheap And Evil Girl" by Bree Sharp. Rated K+)**

Klaus is near to nodding off at his post, tired from both a long journey and the evening's endless feast. He was  _supposed_  to be tucked into his borrowed quarters but the evening guard had fallen ill. As Captain of the Royal Guard it had been up to Klaus to find a replacement. He'd found that the illness must be catching for several of the guard were complaining of fever and headache. Those unafflicted were well into their cups and so he'd had no other option but to stand guard outside the Princess' rooms himself.

Princess Caroline had already been abed when he'd arrived, her candles snuffed. He'd remained vigilant as the night wore on, as was his duty, though a threat was unlikely. This visit's purpose was friendly. Too friendly, in Klaus' opinion. He had not liked the look of either of this kingdom's princes, nor had he liked how they'd eyed Princess Caroline. At the welcoming banquet the offered wine was good and the food spare, carefully arranged to seem more abundant. Klaus had taken a cursory tour through the castle when he'd been given leave to rest, moving beyond the public areas. He had found many of the rooms shabbily furnished, insufficiently heated, and in need of repairs.

The Princess should have better, Klaus had decided and he was optimistic that she would have it. The King doted on her, was unlikely to attempt to force a match. It rankled that Caroline had seemed to enjoy the younger sons company, had smiled and laughed in a manner that hadn't  _seemed_  counterfeit. Klaus had his suspicions, however. He'd had a lifetime to study the Princess' expressions, knew what she looked like when she flirted and he hadn't seen much in the way of genuine coquetry. That she'd cut the evening short and claimed exhaustion, retreating to her rooms before the dancing had begun was out of character, yet another hint that she was feigning delight in the younger Salvatore's attentions. There were few things the Princess loved more than dancing.

He is jarred by unexpected noises from inside the bedchamber, a soft thump, a louder crash, and some decidedly unladylike language. Klaus doesn't think before shoving the door open, his hand on the sword at his hip. He stops short at finding Caroline on the floor picking through the pieces of her broken jewelry box. There's a satchel half packed next to her and a pout upon her pretty face. She hiccups when she lifts her eyes to his, "Oh," she sniffs disdainfully. "Of course it's you."

He's not certain what he's done to earn her ire. As children, before they'd been forced to adhere to the strict rules of their relative stations, Klaus had often been unable to resist taunting Caroline. She'd flush, here blue eyes flashing and more than once she'd lobbed a nearby object at his head with impressive accuracy – a doll, an embroidery hoop, and on one occasion he'd been pelted by a barrage of cakes. The dish the sweets had been arranged on had nearly followed until Caroline's nurse had stepped in. Klaus misses those days sometimes, often finds himself swallowing teases and barbs in response to things the Princess says. It's not appropriate and he must learn to curb such impulses. Klaus does his best to be carefully respectful and polite, to treat her only with the greatest of diffidence. He crouches before her, "Are you injured, your majesty? Shall I fetch someone?"

She lets out a snort, "I am perfectly fine." She waves a hand in front of his face, "Well? Aren't you going to help me up? That's your  _duty_  now, isn't it?"

Gingerly he grasps her offered hand, careful to keep the touch minimal. He keeps his eyes on her face and not on the yards of white linen swathing her slender frame as they rise. The effort to be circumspect is as Caroline careens into him once she's mostly upright, catching herself on his chest as she giggles. He catches a scent in her hair, bitter and spicy, and the reason for her unsteadiness immediately becomes clear. His men had been imbibing the same brew, a potent local specialty involving juniper berries. He's not certain who would have offered it to Caroline, or why she would have accepted, but if it was one of the King's worthless sons this visit might not end in the same spirit in which it began, diplomacy be damned.

Klaus is confident in his ability to make any injury that might befall the guilty party appear accidental.

Caroline makes no effort to leave his arms, slumping against him with a distracting hum of pleasure as her arms wind around him. Her words are slightly slurred when she speaks, her lips brushing against his skin, "Will you fetch my horse, Klaus? I've a journey to get started on."

A puzzling statement, as they'd just arrived and were set to stay for some time yet. He strokes her braid idly, unable to help himself. It's not as though she'll remember it, not in her state. "What journey?"

"The Prince told me of a tower. Of a dragon who guards it. The man who slays the beast is granted a wish. I need a wish, Klaus."

The explanation does nothing to clear up Klaus' confusion. Caroline had every comfort one could dream of, an army of servants to cater to her every whim, parents who adored her and a tight knit gaggle of friends. Why would she  _risk_  all of that? It's not Klaus' place to ask but he finds he cannot stop himself. With all the rules he's broken this evening what is one more? "What could you possibly need, Car- Your Majesty?"

This time the sound that spills from her is harsh, aggravated. She pulls back, her eyes lit with a familiar fire, "Many things. I  _wish_  to choose my husband. I  _wish_  to have many years in which to make that choice. I wish he could be anyone, someone I could fall in love with. And I wish  _you_ would say my name again."

Klaus stiffens in shock, cannot manage to get his tongue to work properly. He finds himself stuttering, "I…"

"My name," she repeats fiercely, her fists clenching around the collar of his doublet. "Not my  _title_."

He shakes his head, averts his eyes. "I cannot. You  _know_  I cannot."

She releases him with a sigh, stumbling back. "I know nothing of the sort." Klaus moves to assist her automatically but the heat in her glare has his hands dropping. "Always so stubborn," she mutters, bending to retrieve her belongings. He sees her travelling cloak and a hint of alarm nags at him. She couldn't truly mean to leave on a mad quest? And certainly not alone?

Klaus clears his throat, attempts to soothe, "You should rest, Princess. It's very late."

She ignores him, striding over to the wardrobe and beginning to rifle through. "Sorry, Klaus but I've chosen a course. Much of the household will be indisposed tomorrow, it may very well be my only opportunity."

She's barely paying him any mind now, her manner dismissive. It galls and Klaus straightens his posture, his tone hardening with his resolve, "I will not allow you to leave the safety of this castle."

She actually laughs, throwing her head back. "Do you not wonder  _why_  the household will be indisposed? You should. For it would be very easy for me to lay the blame at your feet. Who, after all, would believe that a sheltered princess from an unfamiliar land managed to dose the kitchen's mead?"

"You didn't," Klaus says, though he's not sure if he believes his own denial. There's a determination to this Caroline he's not often seen, obvious even though she remains slightly unsteady.

"The mead," she continues, as if he hadn't spoken, "that she imbibed of herself? That she convinced the vain younger son to pour for her, despite the impropriety, by batting her lashes and pleading oh so prettily?"

He's immediately furious that she'd taken such a risk. Vows to discover who had aided her and make them suffer. Klaus ruthlessly ignores the small part of him that admires her cunning.

The Princess shuts the wardrobe, seems to have finished her hasty packing. She whirls and makes her way to the door. She pauses at the threshold, an eyebrow raised in question. "Are you coming? Or shall I fetch you a flask and send you to your bed? I'm told the herb we used produces rapturous feelings that are well worth the pain that comes in the morning."

She disappears into the hallway before he can answer. Klaus does not hesitate in following. It was his duty and it was more than that. There was not even the faintest shred of a chance that he would allow Caroline to face a dragon alone.


End file.
